Death Never Dies

by Milton Garby

  "I don't know Sara, the Liberality Confederacy's got a pretty good track record when it comes to dealing with unstoppable horrors." She held up a hand and began counting off fingers. "Hakkar, the Old Gods you mentioned, the Lich King, Deathwing, Kil'jaeden..."

  "Yeah yeah," Sara said. "Still a terrible idea. And second, how many of the Old Gods do you think are really dead? When the Titans killed Y'Shaarj, it was at least another sixty thousand years before the Sha disappeared, and they didn't exactly go away on their own. If the Titans couldn't just put down an Old God like that, we're supposed to believe the Liberality Confederacy can? Can you imagine what's gonna bubble up from the Maelstrom in a few decades from now? Or from Silithus, or Northrend? We need to get ahead of the game!"

  Maria went to open her mouth, but Sara was on a roll with convincing her. "And it's been harder each time. C'Thun didn't get a tentacle out of Ahn'Qiraj. Yogg-Saron took them the aid of Titan Watchers and it was a close thing. The Sha took months of trekking across Pandaria, and the war with N'Zoth and its naga took years! Tell me, do you honestly believe that when this fifth Old God comes crawling out of the woodwork that we can afford to just, just point the Kingslayers at it - if they're even still around by then - and say 'Deal with it'?"

  The warlock was silent for a few minutes, a finger on her chin as she thought it over. "Huh, makes sense," she muttered. "So what're you planning to do?"

  "I can't give you any details. For one thing I'm still waiting for funding, and two there's a prohibition against telling uninvolved people any technical details until the paper's published, some dumb plagiarism nonsense, but step one is to head to Silithus and get some accurate readings of C'Thun's magic. See what's going on with the leylines around Ahn'Qiraj, how far its magic spills from its body, that sort of thing."

  Maria frowned. "Isn't that dangerous? Like, fingers turning into tentacles dangerous?"

  "Like I said, I can't give you details but I have taken safety precautions." She glowered at the shorter woman. "I spent a lot of time on this, Maria. Listen, I need to go, but if you're interested - and I get funding - there'll be posters for people to sign up for the trip. Hey, 'I spent months poking around the remains of Yogg-Saron and lived to tell the tale' looks good on your résumé." Sara winked, and Maria giggled. "Check around in a few days, I should have the answer by then."

  "Right. So where're you going?"

  Sara shrugged. "Don't know yet. Yesterday I took a walk in the Park, so that's out. I'll figure something out. I'll track you down if I hear back."

  She heard back.

  Of course she didn't track down Maria, because she didn't care about her much at all. The important thing was that, against all of Sara's worries and paranoia, the council had approved her research proposal and had given her a grant of... seventy five thousand gold, citing that certain things she desired were impractical. Of course they were impractical, they were part of her own secret research to figure out why she had faceless magic.

  Did they know, and that was why they didn't give her the funding? Were they content to just dangle her away from the secret with financial means?

  You're being paranoid again, she told herself. They have no way of knowing you know. Any inferences they make on their part are pure speculation, because I've been very careful to hide that I know about what I can do.

  At least she could move forward. No more free time, from here on out she was busy 24/7. She wrote a letter to her parents letting them know she was going to be busy, and another letter to Leira's guild asking them to tell her when she returned. Then, she was busy busy busy!

  First thing she needed was people helping her, because on her own this would be a monumental task to perform. So she went to an artist and commissioned - for an, ahem, generously low price - pictures. Said picture was of an alliance soldier facing a Prime Sha. In one hand he held a sword, and in the other a Noblegarden basket with a hole in it. Through said hole fell out an egg with 'Liberality Confederacy' written on it. Below the soldier were the words: DON'T PUT ALL YOUR EGGS IN ONE BASKET! Those words were followed by information on Sara's expedition and where to get more information. She had several of those posters made and plastered all around the Mage Quarter, and while there weren't a lot of people who were eager to go poking around the corpses of Old Gods, she got enough people signing up to help her. Including Maria.

  Silithus was on the other side of the planet. Portals would help, but moving so many items through a portal was... risky, not to mention expensive. As a result, Sara needed a boat to Rut'theran Village, and from there to the rebuilt Auberdine. From there it'd be a long trip by air to Cenarion Hold. From there, a trudge across the desert to Ahn'Qiraj. There they'd have to show the Cenarion druids keeping watch over the city their authorization so they could go in. Then the long trip to the grave of C'Thun - underground, eugh - with long measurements to be taken, then the return trip, provisions, the Maelstrom for N'Zoth, Pandaria, Ulduar, analyzing all the data once she got back...

  Sara's head hurt. Why couldn't they just wing it?

  To make matters worse, she was still short twenty five thousand gold, so she wouldn't be able to get her hands on the instruments needed to research her own magic. Without that she'd at least be able to perform her basic research into becoming an Archmage, but that wasn't at the forefront of her mind. She wanted to know why she had the magic she did, and she wanted to know right away!

  Ugh. Worrying herself would do no good. She needed to go home and lay down. Ever since getting her research approved it was work, work, and more work. Not that she'd expected any different but for goodness sake! She couldn't go out on walks, she couldn't spar, she couldn't practice her magic, she couldn't do anything except fill out forms, drink coffee, listen to people whispering behind her back about 'that crazy warlock going to go poking gods', talk to people coming onto the voyage, again and again and again! It'd all be worth it once she had the answers to her magic and the power of an Archmage but the workload made her want to just go out onto the street and start KILLING EVERYONE!

  She paused from walking back to her apartment and leaned against a building. Calm. She was calm.

  It was late afternoon by the time Sara got back to the apartment complex. She checked through the mail and raised an eyebrow at having received a letter. She wasn't expecting a letter. It was addressed to her from the Kingslayers, so that was... certainly unexpected.

  A few minutes later she was inside her apartment suite, door locked behind her. Sara lay down on her bed and held the letter up with one hand. With the other hand she sliced it open with shadow magic so the letter would fall out, obliterated the envelope, and took the letter in one hand. Another one fell out behind it. Two letters? Sara grunted and began reading the first one.

  Dear Ms. Sara Smithers,

  We here at the Liberality Confederacy make it our business to know as many going-ons as possible in Azeroth and beyond. To that end your expedition to the bodies of Azeroth's four known Old Gods has not gone unnoticed and, to be frank, we approve. We share your concerns regarding Azeroth's final Old God, and were we less busy we would take a more direct approach in aiding you with your research. Unfortunately, duty calls and while we are obligated not to tell you why we are so busy due to secrecy, we can lend you aid indirectly. Alongside this letter is a bank note for our guild bank, authorizing you to withdraw ten thousand gold for the purposes of your experiment so that you may take better readings. We wish you the best of luck with your research, and hope that we may all benefit from it.

  Sincerely,

  Torig Stormhoof, Liberality Confederacy Accountant

  Sara blinked, tossed the letter to the side, and picked up the other. Sure enough, there it was. A check for ten thousand gold and a smile on her face. Then she frowned. It was a lot, but it wasn't enough. She was still fifteen thousand short of the equipment she'd need to analyze herself.

  "Damn it all," she muttered. Unless she got even more funding from some mysterious source, she was.
.. going to have to wait. She hated waiting.

  Oh well. She'd done all she could do for the day, and there was nothing more she could do unless she got some rest. Sara stood from her bed and tucked both the letter and bank note away safely, locking them in a drawer. She went to the washroom and brushed her teeth, bathed quickly, then put on a long, dull green sleeping gown. Sara got into her bed, sleeping above the covers, and quickly passed out, ready to awaken next morning and continue the preparations for next week's departure.

  And then -

  There was something pressed to her throat and she was being shaken awake. Sara's eyes snapped open and she stared up at a leering, masked face. Her first instinct was to open her mouth, but one of his hands were clamped over her mouth, and the other - her eyes glanced down - was holding a knife to her throat. There was something like a vice crushing her soul, strangling her magic almost too much for her to use it.

  "If I so much as see a glimmer of magic," the man whispered in a dark voice. "You die. I'm going to take my hand off your mouth now, and you'll stay quiet. Get me?"

  Sara nodded, bringing tears to her eyes. He took the hand off, using it to steady the blade at her neck. "P-Please, don't hurt me," she whimpered pitifully.

  "That might not be necessary. Now, let me explain things to you. Your little adventure in planning hasn't gone unnoticed. I represent a certain group keenly interested in your expedition. So keenly, that you're going to fire some of your apprentices in favor of our own men coming along. You won't say a word to anyone. You'll make them out to be incompetent, or find some other manner. Fail to do so and, well... you see how easy it was for me to get to you."

  "Okay, okay," she whispered, tears moving down her cheeks. "I'll do it, just don't k-kill me," Sara stammered.

  "I'm glad we've come to an agreement. Don't worry about hiring the wrong people, they'll introduce themselves to you." He put the knife away and began to leave.

  You've just made the biggest mistake of your life, she thought.

  Sara put out the quiver in her voice and her eyes dried. Once he was two yards away she sat up in her bed and pointed a hand at him, calling up her magic. It was like squeezing through a door shut almost too tight, and it hurt forcing so much magic through her body, but a brilliant green light shone at the end of her hand regardless.

  The intruder noticed the illumination and turned around, eyes wide through his ski mask. "How are you - " That was the last thing he said, because a thick green laser, with darker emerald lightning flashing around it, exploded from Sara and struck him center mass. His knife clattered to the ground moments before his body landed with a thud. From his pocket came a little ring. It was a magic suppressor, made of iron and made brittle by hundreds of overlapping purple runes.

  She swung out of bed and wiped her crocodile tears away, before smashing the anti-magic device underfoot with a satisfying crunch. Sara sauntered over to the corpse, tisking all the way. She wanted answers, and she was going to get them. First things first though, she reached her magic into his brain. The violet lines were still visible, but no pulses went through them. That wouldn't stop her from mani -

  Knock knock knock! Sara jumped, and then a man's voice sounded in. "Hey Sara, everything okay in there? I heard you fall out, you okay?"

  "I'm fine!" she shouted at her suite-mate. "Go away!"

  There was a pause. "Alright, alright, I see." Footsteps, and he was gone.

  ... from manipulating his thoughts. She reached for the brain stem and with a few snips paralyzed him. Then she severed his vocal cords. Now that those were done, she picked up his knife. It was a fancy knife. Golden hilt, engraved with lions and eagles, shining metal. She was going to keep it, so she put it on her desk and walked over to her closet. She fetched out a jeweled staff. It wasn't a fancy one by any means. Basic wooden shaft, and a blue channeling crystal on the end to keep the strain of magic off her body. With the staff in her right hand, she stood over the man.

  He was on his back. The first thing Sara did was take the mask off, revealing a handsome man in his early thirties with grayish hair, tan skin, and well defined features.

  "Well," she whispered. "No time like the present." Necrotic green energies shivered along her body, flickering in and around her staff. She reached into the man who's life she'd extinguished like a candle and searched. His soul hadn't gotten far, so she grabbed onto it and began dragging it back against what seemed like a current of water. Viridian light flowed off his body as Sara shoved it back into his corpse and, with a shock of magic, restarted his bodily functions.

  She sagged and held onto the staff like a crutch as he sputtered to life. She'd never actually brought a person back to life before, and it was like getting kicked in the chest. Sara took a few minutes to get her breath back, then tossed her staff onto her bed and glowered at him.

  "I don't know what you were thinking," she told the panicked grey eyes. "To suppress my level of magic you need a field generator made of cobalt, not steel, and you should've knocked me out just in case. But oh well. Now you're here. With me. And my magic's both paralyzed you and rendered you mute." Her voice turned sweet. "Now, friend, I'm going to give you back your voice, but in case you're thinking about shouting try and remember who's the intruder here and who's..." She sniffled. "The poor young woman, assaulted in her sleep, who defended herself against the scary, creepy man who held a knife to her throat." His eyes widened, then narrowed. "Alright, here's your voice." She reconnected the lines in his brain, allowing him access to his vocal cords again.

  "What the fuck did you do to me?!" he hissed. "It was so... so cold, and dark, and empty..."

  "I killed you and brought you back to life. You might want to think about your life choices, if that's the afterlife you tasted." She sat by him, and his head followed her. "Now, I'm curious. Who exactly are you? What were you doing here, and who are these people you want to come with me to the corpses of the Old Gods?"

  "Up yours! You may as well kill me again, you're not getting a word out of me."

  Sara smirked. "We'll see about that." She held another hand at him, keeping the magic weak enough to just be a violet glow instead of green. Sara reached his hearing center and began to construct a message, made in his own voice. She also created a basic mind reading link so she could hear the response.

  "What are you doing to me?!"

  "Casting a truth spell," she lied. Then, in his own voice, she whispered to his mind, 'Oh no. She'll discover us with that spell!'

  His mind did the rest. 'Unless I can lie by omission. I can't tell her a lie, but I don't have to tell her it's the Twilight's Hammer.'

  Her heartrate sped up a bit. The Twilight's... oh. She'd gotten herself into some deep trouble, hadn't she? Still, she could play off of that. After all, there was a decent chance they didn't know about her magic, and she could lie about what she wanted from the expedition.

  "Well well well," she whispered. "What do we have here? The Twilight's Hammer."

  "How did you - "

  "I lied about the truth spell. How dumb do you think I am?" she asked, looking at him condescendingly. Sara looked over to her windows; the curtains had been drawn, but there was still moonlight pouring through. "Twilight's Hammer. Now isn't that something? Finally come crawling out of the woodwork like the cockroaches you are. But... I'm a forgiving woman, whoever you are. Truth be told we can help each other. Tell me, do you know why I wish to research the Old Gods?"

  "Your posters tell enough. If you succeed in your mission you'll give this fleeting world more tools to use against our masters. Admirable attempt, but foolish."

  "Right, that's a lie. I admit the Old Gods are a... concern to my wellbeing, but it's hardly the primary motivation. First, I just needed a poorly researched topic for my Archmage thesis. Nothing really philanthropist about that. Second, I don't have human magic." She held up her left hand, glowing with an orb of purple, green and black power. She made a figure eight that left a trail of dark mist. "My magical sign
ature was under heavier security than most, but I got my hands on it. Did you know that I have the same exact -" Not really 'exact' but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt her. "- magic as the faceless ones?" His eyes went wide in surprise. "Yes, very curious, don't you think?"

  "How do you have the power of the-them?" he asked, shaking.

  "I don't know." She climbed over him, face to face. "But I intend to figure out. Now, how about a little quid pro quo, hmm? The original funding I requested was one hundred thousand gold, more or less. But I only got eighty five thousand gold to fund this journey. In that missing fourteen thousand eight hundred seventy two is what I need for my personal research. Figure out what my link is to the Old Gods. Hey, maybe I can even get the favor of the fifth, then I won't exactly need to worry about turning in my research." He was eating it up, she could tell by how intently he looked at her as she continued speaking. "So tell me, how hard would it be for you to get me my fifteen grand, in exchange for your underlings hitching a ride to Silithus? I don't really care about the people coming with me, they're just there to make my journey easier." She winked. "Might be nice to have a conversation with someone who understands."

  She pulled away and let him think. "It... would not be difficult. My contractor is a member of Stormwind's business elite -" And one of them was in the Hammer? Oh dear. She'd have to mind-control someone into giving his identity. "- so fifteen thousand is something he can part with for the Masters. And you truly have the power of the Old Gods themselves?"

  "I brought you back from the dead, separated your mind and body, read your thoughts, and implanted some of my own. Take a guess. Now, are you going to help me learn about our... mutual benefactors, or do I need to put you back to rest?" she asked with a menacing flicker of energy.